Into His Parlour
by brukleflesche
Summary: She may be an arachnophile, running to and staying with him as she does.


**Disclaimer:** _Inuyasha: Sengoku o-Togi Zoushi_ **_does not _**belong to me in any way, shape, or form. This is a work of fanfiction and was written for entertainment purposes only. No profits are made from the writing or reading of this story. Only original characters and situations are © copyrighted by me.

**Rated for:** Adult situations and imagery.

* * *

**Into His Parlour  
**©2004 by Kei 

**  
i. fine and thin**

"Souta-chan, look!" Kagome cried, hefting the one-year-old into her left arm so she could point with her right hand. "A spider!"

The baby, understanding nothing of the exclamation but his own name, merely giggled and chirped, "Yay!"

The six-year-old little girl continued to stare in fascination at the tiny black arachnid spinning its delicate silvery web between two branches of the Go-Shinboku. Even when her younger brother began wailing for food, she couldn't tear away her intent gaze.

****

**-  
ii. up a winding stair**

Ah, her heart is cleaved in half! and she weeps with joy.

Walking away, slowly and silently, she ponders the earth and bones.

_". . . And the LORD God formed man of the dust of the ground. . . . and he took one of his ribs, and. . .made he a woman. . . ."_

"The same," she says, "clay and bones and soul. Yet in golden eyes am I the lesser."

Crimson engages her mind. Breath hitches in her bejeweled throat. She fondly remembers a cicatrix.

She wraps a cape of cobwebs snugly about herself and briskly moves on.

****

**-  
iii. warm affection**

So tight his arms around her, so hard and warm, he, buried like a corpse between her legs. She explodes, screaming her cherished deviltry.

Thick vapor plunders her innards, her breath becoming that purple-black essence, her blood now silk in her veins. She claws in his inexorable embrace until her fingernails tear off in his flesh.

No, not love. Masochistic solace, perhaps. Cruel lust, sated for the moment by this Hell.

Jealously he guards her slumber. No one but he will enter her nightmares.

****

**-  
iv. the silly fly**

_"Why?"_

I might laugh if I'm not careful.

Maybe you were too wrapped up in your own selves and in your lovers to see how I hacked a hole in my breast and ripped out my own heart to feed it to the dog?

Perhaps your own self-absorption blinded you to the fact that a necrophiliac spurned me for a zombie woman?

The child—no. He cared. I still give a damn for the orphan kit. He should not be allowed to see me, but he will.

Disillusionment, such a bittersweet drug for curing naiveté.

****

**-  
v. fiercely held fast**

Black and whole, the pendant of her necklace. It awaits a self-

-ish?

-less?

wish.

But her dreams are gone. She only desires that pale body, to get lost in the ugly, enchanting scar tissue, to drown in the miasma that erases existence and delivers sweet oblivion.

She envelops him, throbbing and aching, pulling the same reactions from him. Her satisfied smile is dead. He kisses her cracked, bloody lips. She moans.

At some point, they both begin whispering untruths in three-word sentences.

****

**-  
vi. diamond bright, dull as lead**

At length, she realizes that those beings for which she once cared must be long dead. She wonders if she wielded the scythe for reaping their souls.

She doesn't remember, nor does she care.

Her fruitless body has not aged. Her craving for the noxious mist has not abated. He still fulfills her. They still murmur three-word lies to one another.

Not love, not solace, not even lust now. Perhaps routine, how easy. Maybe even contentment? It sounds preposterous, but the truth is more frightening than fiction can ever hope to be.

****

**-  
vii. ne'er came out again**

She wanted to hold it, to feel those thinner-than-paper legs moving over her skin.

More by strength of will than anything else, Kagome climbed the Go-Shinboku. She inched her way out along one of the branches to which the web was attached, extending a trembling hand with her index finger out to let the spider on.

After a few moments, when the little black thing ignored her, Kagome swiped the arachnid off its web and onto her finger. She flailed and cried out when it bit her in retaliation. Her grip on the branch faltered and she plummeted to the ground.

With a cracking, crunching noise she landed on the green spring grass below. Her blue-grey eyes were open and her lips parted. She did not move.

The black spider, which had remained on her finger during the fall, crept up her arm, her chest, her neck, her cheek.

It entered her mouth, lay down on her tongue, and died.

* * *

**_NOTES:_**

This fic was something of an experiment, I guess, not only in pairing (Naraku/Kagome, if you couldn't tell) but in writing style as well. It was heavily inspired by "Stained Red" by Elementsofmine and "Sum" and "Up the Spout Again" by hiding duh. They're amazing stories, and pretty much cemented my interest in/affection for "NarKag" stories, of which there are definitely not enough.

So, what the hell is going on in this story? I suppose it's rather open for interpretation. If Kagome dies as a little girl after falling from a tree, how can she do all those things in _sengoku-jidai_? Honestly, I don't know. It's just one of those crazy things you have to accept.

I must also give credit to Mary Howitt, writer of the poem "The Spider and the Fly", from which I lifted the section titles. To read a copy of the poem online, go to _eir.library.utoronto.ca/rpo/display/poem1076.html_. As for the "God" quote in the second section, it comes from the second chapter of the King James version of the Book of Genesis.

Thank you for reading, and please do me a great kindness and leave a review with questions, comments, critiques, or whatever. Flames, naturally, will be laughed at and promptly (in Strong Bad voice) **DELETED!**

Appreciatively,

Kei


End file.
